Page 27 of Scarlet Promise (Yegorov Bratva #4)

Chapter Twenty-One

ILYA

High-tech security is a warning system in my world. Nothing more.

There’s a reason my focus is on manpower, not on lasers or whatever the fuck people have in other industries.

But it’s not going to hurt. I like the idea of the added layer of a better tech security system, like an alarm.

My grandfather had one similar. Chase oversees the installation, along with the woman who designed the system.

It’s a two-tier system, with codes or cards or biometrics I can turn on or off.

I opt, privately, to keep biometrics off.

Too many horror stories of innocents with access who lose their lives, eyes, or fingers for invaders to get in.

Santo’s helping with the manpower.

I dread the conversation with what he wants of mine when this is done. What he’ll get when our negotiations are done.

After the system’s upgraded and Chase, the designer, and the technicians are gone, I take a seat at my desk, contemplating my next move.

My phone starts to buzz. I check caller ID. What the fuck?

Demyan.

My blood goes cold then hot. Is he calling to apologize? I force a laugh. This is Demyan. Those words won’t ever leave his mouth. Still, he’s able to offer olive branches or just pretend nothing happened at all. Those last two I can see happening.

I hit answer.

“What the actual fuck?” he says. “Alina told me.”

My head spins. Did she… But I dismiss her telling him she’s pregnant without letting me know first.

I approach carefully. “Told you what?”

“Security, Ilya. Fuck.”

No clearing of air, then.

“Upgraded security means extra money and manpower, two things you don’t have right now,” Demyan says.

“You have no idea of my financial situation. This bratva isn’t in the red.”

“And it hasn’t been buying soldiers either,” he snaps. “Nor have men flocked to join your ranks.”

“Spying?” I ask, curling my hands into hard fists as my blood boils up inside me.

“Tell me you didn’t do something stupid like go crawling back to Santo.” Demyan takes a breath. “Because?—”

“I really don’t have time for this conversation right now.

Not that I call it that. This is more a berating by you that you’ve no business doling out.

Perhaps if we were friends. Perhaps if you wanted to talk or sort things out, but you fired me, pushed me from your organization, and either ignore me or do… this. So, I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” Demyan’s tone scrapes me the wrong way. “Fucking things up?”

“What I do or how I do it is none of your business anymore,” I say to him in Russian. “ Hui s’gory. ”

“Same to you,” Demyan almost growls. “Know this. If anything happens to Alina while she’s at your place, I’ll make sure you play, suka .”

Somehow I resist another profanity. There are some choice ones out there, but calling him a dick from the mountains and him calling me a bitch is enough. I don’t need to get into a verbal brawl with him.

I continue in Russian, “If I didn’t think she was safe here, I wouldn’t be letting her stay.”

With that, I end the call. I turn my phone over on my desk and scowl at my computer.

I don’t need Demyan telling me Santo is a bad idea. I already know that.

But he’s right and wrong about money.

I have money.

I don’t have a reputation to get loyal men to come knocking. And buying men won’t work. Mercenaries are the last people I need. They’re loyal to one thing—the dollar.

So yeah, I’m aware Santo is my only option.

He wants something from me, and I’ve seen that his men are loyal.

Shouts outside filter in. I shoot to my feet, pull my gun from the drawer, slam the clip into place, and take the stairs two at a time.

I race outside as a gunshot rips apart the air. More shouts and the sound of a scuffle reach me.

I turn right. There I find the new security team that Demyan just lectured and warned me about restraining two men on the ground.

Others race over, guns at the ready.

I look around. “What the hell’s going on here?”

One of my men, whose name slips my mind, speaks up. “They tried to ambush the mansion.”

“What about the alarm system?” I ask.

“It’s how we knew, sir.”

Another man speaks up, one of Santo’s. “The system alerted us. There were a bunch of intruders.”

My man nods. “But we chased them off.”

“We did try to get them,” another says, “but they managed to escape.”

“I don’t think they expected to meet a small army. A cohesive one,” the first man states.

I nod.

The men now have the two men restrained and have them on their knees. I stalk up to the first one.

“Who the fuck do you work for?” I ask.

The man spits at me.

“That’s your final word on it?”

His shit-eating grin does it for me. I got a workout this morning, but it was truncated, so I’m a little on edge. I don’t like my routine interrupted, so I kick the fucker in the head.

“Who the fuck are you working for?”

“Fuck you,” the man says, spitting blood.

I kick him again and again until he falls unconscious.

Then I approach the second man.

I grab him by the hair. “Who are you working for?”

The man’s eyes bug as he stares at his unmoving, bloodied buddy. “Antonio Pollino.”

I stare at him so long the man starts to babble and beg.

“Please, please. I was just doing my job. Don’t kill me. I’ll do anything…”

Disgusted, I walk away.

“Take care of them,” I mutter to one of my men.

Any doubts lingering over asking Santo for help are gone.

Yes, the alarm system helped, but it worked because of the extra manpower.

If they weren’t here, even with the alarm, I may be dead. And if Alina had been here…

I shudder.

That’s one thing I can’t think about.

The alarm gives me a fighting chance, but without the men, the place is too big and vulnerable. I’d need an electric fence, lasers, alligator pits. The fucking works.

I want to laugh, but there isn’t a single funny thing about this.

The house has alarms on all doors and windows, but again, manpower is needed for something this big. The alarm doesn’t keep anyone out.

It alerts.

I storm back to my office and call Vladimir. “Did Antonio Pollino take up Simonov on his offer of invading me?”

“ Da .”

I thank him and hang up.

There’s a nasty, strong smell in the room. It smells like a rat.

Antonio and Demyan have been friends for years. I fucking know Antonio well by association.

My blood blisters white-hot through my veins.

Antonio and I have always gotten along when our paths have crossed, but I do understand business is business.

But there’s a caveat. Two, really.

One is, as far as I know, Antonio’s the type to talk before invading if there’s no beef. He’ll always seek a bond that’s mutually beneficial. So what the fuck was he told?

But the second caveat?

There’s no fucking way Antonio would do something to risk turning Demyan into an enemy, no matter what he was told about the Belov Bratva.

Unless Demyan cleared the path. And Demyan fed into the lies handed to Antonio.

Fuck, maybe Demyan even endorsed this attack.

I punch Demyan’s name into my phone, and the moment he picks up, I lay into him.

“You fuck,” I snap in Russian. “You knew I was going to be ambushed. What the fuck is wrong with you? What if Alina were here, and I’d gone out on a job or to pick up fucking food? Did you even think of that? Did you care your sister might be at risk?”

“What—”

“Vladimir, Mikhail’s brother, told me what’s going on in Simonov’s camp.”

“Why the hell would I know about any of this? And who the actual fuck do you think you are, calling one of my informants?”

“I called his brother.”

“It’s the same fucking thing, Ilya.” Something smashes on the other end of the call. “Why would I know this shit?”

“I don’t know,” I say quietly. “Why would you? But more importantly, would you have stopped it if you did?”

Demyan snorts. “You’re the one who decided to side with the enemy, not me.”

“The enemy? You mean someone you have issues with?”

“I mean Santo. I mean your actual fucking bratva itself.”

I laugh and stalk over to the wet bar, select the vodka, unscrew the top, and take a swig from the bottle. It should be in the freezer. I don’t give a fuck.

“Like I had a fucking choice,” I snarl. “My grandfather left the bratva to me.”

“The grandfather who didn’t want to know you? The one you had no idea you had until he died?” Demyan asks, his voice full of poison. “That’s how little he thought of you. Let you think he was dead until that choice was taken from him by his actual death.”

There’s a flash of silence.

“Low blow, Demyan.” I hang up and take another swig.

The pressure changes in the room. I reach for my gun as I spin, only to see the sweetest sight in the world.

“ Malyshka ,” I say. “Are you all right?”

Her mouth thins, her eyes bright with worry. “Are you? What’s going on? Did something happen? It’s a hive of activity out there.”

I rub my eyes. “Someone attempted to send a team to ambush me, but things are under control now. We got them.”

“Ilya—”

“For the time being, I think it’s best for you not to stay here. I want you safe,” I say, going to her so I can hold her.

Sending her away is going to kill me, but my ego doesn’t matter. Only Alina matters.

“But I don’t want to,” she says. “It’s fine now, right?”

“Alina.” I kiss her gently. “If I had my way, you’d never leave my side again, but you and our baby come first. I need you safe, and that’s not here.”

She frowns. “Was that Demyan you were arguing with on the phone?”

“Demyan’s opinions have no bearing on my decision.”

She nods. “So it was him.”

“Yeah, but like I said?—”

“I’m staying.” Alina takes my hand and looks up at me.

I sigh. “You can’t. That’s my ego at work, thinking you need to stay. You’re better off somewhere else, and we both know it.”

Her eyes narrow. “Talk me through what happened.”

I do. From the new alarm to the added men, to how they chased off others and caught two.

“Sounds like what happened here was handled as well as if it had been at Demyan’s place, and you know it,” she says to me. “And telling me what to do? Please don’t do that. It makes you just like Demyan, who seems to think he’s suddenly my father and I’m a small child.”

I take her face and kiss her again. “The last thing I want is to put you in danger.”

“My choice. I don’t feel in danger when I’m with you. I feel safe.” She kisses me with a long, passionate kiss, one that makes me melt, down to my toes. “Besides, I can take danger. I’ve been around it my whole life.”

“So, you’re not leaving?”

“I’m not leaving.”

For a sweet, accommodating girl, Alina’s stubborn as fuck. Which I’ve always known, but now she’s turning it full blast onto me.

“Okay,” I say reluctantly. “You can stay.”

I’ll just have to trust in my own ability and the new measures in place to keep her safe.